Borrowed Time
by angato
Summary: Snippets of time in an artificially extended life.
1. Restless

_You most certainly need to read Quicksilver and Phage in order to understand these vignettes. As a thank-you to fans and reviewers, this series WILL be taking requests for scenes you would like to see. Please PM me with your thoughts, and thank you for your support._

* * *

Life had become a series of routines, and Lynn could not sleep.

Of course, sleeping had always been a sort of distant relative, someone who visited when they needed something and left when they were through with her. She had never mastered the art of regular bedtimes. Her body had won that battle years before, and these days she simply existed in a state of constant drowsiness, content to let her body decide when she would be allowed her next restful moment.

This, however, was worse - far worse. Bad enough that JARVIS, the nosy thing, asked her every day if she had visited the doctor about it. He assured her that he recognized the signs of PTSD, an assertion she huffed at angrily.

"I haven't been in a war, JARVIS," she angrily asserted, and the A.I. fell silent. He knew better than to argue with her, because he'd had much the same arguments with his creator, and likely still was.

Tony never said a word to her about the circles under her eyes, or how she drooped, body and spirit, when she thought no one was looking. She kept busy, and he kept busy, and together they shared silent counsel on the shared experience of losing to their own bodies.

Natasha came to see her once a week. Lynn asked her in the beginning why, to which the assassin replied, "Are you ready to see the boys?"

Lynn understood. She was seeing Natasha because Natasha had told the boys to stay away. It was an agreement among them to respect her privacy, particularly impressive since Tony and even Thor struggled with the concept of leaving a woman in peace for extended periods of time. Natasha would take her to dinner, and they would eat and gossip and chat about life, and Natasha would then ask her what she wanted the boys to know.

Lynn always had a simple reply: _Tell them about school. Tell them about work. Everything's fine._

And Natasha would say: _Tony knows you're not sleeping. You know JARVIS tells him that._

_But he doesn't say anything to me_, Lynn would say, and Natasha would smile in a way that seemed more like a grimace, and say nothing else. She knew as well as the rest of them that pushing the matter would shut them all out, abruptly.

Natasha would leave soon after, and the cycle continued for another week. School, work, visit with Natasha. Catch moments of sleep in between days of wakefulness. Wake up soon after, shivering and afraid, and vow to never sleep again.

The routine was soothing, in a way.

There was only one truly unpredictable aspect of her life, who came and went as he pleased. Loki did knock these days, which amused her each time, and she suspected the laugh he got from her for it was more to do with the continued habit than actual politeness. She also suspected that he had little to no concept of her own schedule, and merely showed up when the mood took him – whatever mood it was that led him to seek her out.

She had no idea what it was. She had also not made a decision, _the_ decision, and he never reminded her. She thought he might hope that she forgot, and didn't want to bring the idea roaring back to her.

He still preferred to sit on her coffee table, the heavily fortified wood not creaking under surprising weight. She had thought he was just ornery, choosing a non-seat as his seat, until he had tried the sofa at her urging. Seeing him sink into the cushions, his vestments bulging and creasing in odd locations, had made her admit defeat. It _had_ looked silly, and he didn't fit on a couch anyway. So she let him have the coffee table without any further comments.

Today, Loki sat on the edge with his hands folded, his more casual position. There was a falseness to it – he was putting on a show, and she was tense through the shoulders waiting to see what was coming.

"I have been informed by Stark, through my brother, that I am to ask you about your sleeping habits, or lack thereof," he said. He sounded uncomfortable, and he should; the topic of her health was a no-go between them. He was implicitly to blame for a good bit of her issues now, and they both knew it.

"If it was Tony who asked, I know he didn't ask like that," she said. She was jotting notes inside of a school textbook. The habit drove Loki mad, and she couldn't help but rile him in such a small, silly way. He watched the pen – permanent, and _green_ – slide across the sacred pages and grinded his teeth.

"He said I might learn something," Loki said with a sour tone. "I feel as though I know quite enough, these days. Perhaps what I should strive for is to _forget_."

"Feed Maxwell," she said, and he scowled and grumped his way through the task. But he _did_ it, taking a pinch of fish flakes and crumbling them into the water while the betta snapped at the offerings. Another task done because he knew it amused her to watch him.

She knew she had failed to distract him when he said, "I have not forgotten my question. Does something ail you?"

"I don't want to talk about it," she said, and she didn't.

"Nonetheless I am here, set upon this task," Loki said. He dusted the tips of his fingers free of debris and looked over to her. The slight _swish, swish _of a fish eating broke the silence between them.

"Don't be a dog with a bone about it," she said. "I _don't_ want to talk about it, especially not with you."

If he were anyone else, he might have been offended. He laughed instead.

"It is not I who makes this choice for you," he said. "In fact, I am unconcerned about it entirely – if you do not sleep, you will not hurt yourself -"

He stopped, and glanced at her. She raised both eyebrows. _Yes_, she thought, _you reminded me._

"At least, not at present," he said, more sullenly. He did not like to feel this way, and turned to her windows to look over the city below. "I feel I should mention that Stark was more concerned about your studies than your health. I believe he, as he put it, 'has no ground to stand on.'"

"That's true," Lynn said. She put the book down because he wasn't watching anyway, and wrapped her arms around her knees. "I guess he's gotten better, but we don't talk about it either."

"You won't hurt yourself, will you?" Loki asked. He tried to sound casual. His fingers twitched.

"No, Loki," she said. "I won't hurt myself."

"Why are you not sleeping, Amma Lynn?" he asked. He sniffed once, quietly. "You are not ill – you _cannot _be ill – and you have ample opportunity."

"I don't want to." She uncurled from the sofa and stood, walking to the kitchen. He followed her, as she knew he would. He couldn't stand to be alone if another person was close by, like a feral cat following people at a distance, constantly hissing when paid attention to.

She didn't drink coffee outside of the shop; she used her small, cheap coffee-maker to make tea instead. She set two bags inside and flipped the switch. Loki scoffed behind her.

"I am astonished that Stark allows you to keep that pitiful contraption," he said. "He could build a better machine with scraps."

"He hates it," she said. "I don't mind it. It's functional. There's no reason to change it."

"Except that it could be improved upon." Loki raised one hand, his fingers already glowing green.

"Leave it alone!" Lynn scowled at him, and he laughed and lowered his hand. He enjoyed riling her as much as she did him. He thought it made them friends, when she was in a more charitable mood.

He glanced at the electric timepiece above her stove and noticed that the time was long past what most would call a reasonable hour. Indeed, she would be expected to wake soon, and she had clearly not slept at all this night.

"Amma Lynn, surely you should attempt to rest," he said.

"Right after you do," she said, and he pursed his lips. She used much the same methods with Stark, who gave in immediately when reminded of his own imperfections.

There was a simple way to win this conversation, and though it galled him terribly to do it, he was alone here with her, and she was not the type to spread gossip.

"Very well," he said. "I will sleep here, on this terrible furniture you mortals deem fit for leisure, and you will sleep in your room."

Lynn looked over at him. The circles under her eyes gave her a sunken, sick appearance, and he was reminded of days gone by. He tilted his head and blinked at her, and she unconsciously mirrored the blink.

"You'll stay here?" she asked, quiet and dull. She didn't _sound_ happy or hopeful, but there was a slight spark in her spine which gave her away.

_Why are you afraid to sleep,_ he wanted to ask. He nodded his head instead, and waited. In another moment, the pot began to burble and she reached to flick the switch into the off position.

"Alright," she said hesitantly. "I'll sleep if, if you'll be out here."

"I will stay," Loki said. She found a blanket for him, gave him one of her pillows, and stood as a lost waif in her doorway, hands clutching her elbows. Loki waited until she closed the door, and laid himself out on the sofa.

He would not sleep, of course, but the illusion apparently provided her solace. He watched the crease under her door until the light inside was turned off, and listened closely. He couldn't hear her breathing from this distance.

Loki closed his eyes, and drifted. It was less than an hour later when a voice prodded at his awareness.

"Mr. Laufeyson," JARVIS said through the speakers rigged throughout the room. Loki opened his eyes and sat up, looking upward.

"Yes?" he asked.

"You should check on Miss Creed," JARVIS said. Loki was already standing and heading for the door.

"What has she not told us?" he asked as he turned the knob.

"She forbade me from telling," JARVIS said as he swung the door open. Lynn was awake in the center of her bed, her head buried inside of her curled-in knees. She was shaking terribly, so hard that the blankets had fallen from around her. She looked up when Loki cleared his throat, and sucked in a sharp breath.

"Don't h-hurt me," she whispered desperately, and Loki knew that she saw him exactly as he was. She was not caught in some nightmare, seeing a false manifestation – she was seeing Loki himself, and the sight perturbed her.

He stepped closer and she flinched.

"I will not hurt you, Amma Lynn," he said soothingly. Her trembling reminded him so clearly of Sleipnir, frozen with fear, abandoned in the woods. Loki mimicked his movements from that discovery now, slow and cautious so as not to startle her. He settled himself at the corner of her bed, not touching her but close enough to do so if needed. He had been trained as a warrior once, and knew these signs. She was in the throes of a panic.

"If you touch me, I'll scream," she said in that same tight whisper. Her heart was beating so quickly that he could hear her blood rushing. "I'll scream and he'll come in here."

"Who will, Amma Lynn?" Loki asked. "Who will come?" he asked, and she shook her head again.

He felt his patience snap.

"Enough of this nonsense," he rasped at her. She jolted away from him, mouth open. He hated to see her so small and pathetic, so weak. So _human_. His frayed temper parted at the seams, and he snarled at her.

"I said _enough_. You sit here mewling for nothing!"

"Go to hell," she snapped, and kicked out with one leg. He grabbed her foot and she froze, sucking in a sharp breath and going rigid. He felt as though he could fracture her down the middle, a glass statuette in the shape of a small, dark mortal.

"Ornery little thing," he said, and she flinched and looked away. "Why do you fear me so?"

"Why shouldn't I?" she asked. She sounded resigned. "Haven't you hurt me enough?"

"I've apologized, I think," he said. He hadn't, and he likely never would. He was not one to suffer regrets. She was picking at her toes, an odd sort of habit that brought stranger memories. A world coated in ice, and a small blind mortal who still defied him.

"Do you remember when you strangled me?" she asked. Apparently his memories were shared.

"That was a long time ago," he said.

"Not so long, for me," Lynn said. "Two years at most. It doesn't feel as long as it was." She glanced at him. "I still dream about it. And…other things."

She shuddered. He did not miss the way her arms and legs shielded her body.

"I will not hurt you, Amma Lynn," Loki said. Gentle, so gentle. She looked so very tired. "And Thanos is not here."

She closed her eyes. "He looked like you when he – he threatened – he looked like you, and the others. And Mr. Turner…I never told anyone that."

She sounded confused at her outburst. Loki knew what this was; as her body came down from the effects of panic, she was left with a drunken sort of sensation which loosened her tongue and made her mind malleable. She would agree to nearly anything now, he knew, if he phrased it carefully enough.

He reached to replace the blanket around her shoulders, and warmed the cloth with a gentle spell. She sighed, and her eyelids drooped. It would not be long now.

"I don't hate you," Lynn said. Her words weren't quite slurred, but they weren't quite clear. "I should, I think, but I don't. Isn't that strange?"

She had never forgotten that he was dangerous, and would forever remain dangerous. The thought made him smile.

"I am very charming," Loki said. "I have perfected the skill. Won't you lie down now, Amma Lynn? Rest is sure to come if you do."

"Don't tell," she said as she laid back at his command. "Don't tell anyone. If you do I'll never hear the end of it."

"I am most accomplished at secret-keeping," he said. He stood and pressed at the corners of the blanket to ensure she was covered entirely. She watched him with blown pupils, and he suspected she was halfway asleep already.

"I'm trusting you," she whispered.

"You know the folly in that," he said. "Rest now, Amma Lynn."

Lynn closed her eyes and turned slightly; her breathing evened, and she slept.

"Heimdall," he said into the dark, "not one word."


	2. Lies

Loki did not sleep in the conventional sense of the word, or even in some permutation of the word. The trickster had learned the art of wakefulness centuries before, and now only needed small snippets of time to orient himself to continued consciousness. He waited through the next few hours for telltale signs of restless sleep, but apparently one interruption was enough.

Still, it was not nearly long enough before he heard movement in the adjacent room, and the light clicked on underneath the door. He narrowed his eyes as he listened to sluggish steps and some bumbling into objects. A few vile terms were uttered, and he realized as she opened the door that she had forgotten his presence.

She paused upon seeing him there, and blinked slowly. He waited for her angry outburst, or demands for him to leave. She sniffed loudly, swaying a bit on her feet, and said:

"Oh. I forgot."

She stepped forward once, her gait unsteady with recent waking. He stood to meet her and prevent her from entering the kitchen. The habit was unconscious, and he was not hungry. He steered her instead to the couch, where she sat and looked mildly confused.

"Why are you here?" she asked quietly, and sniffed again. She was bleary, and he couldn't conceal an amused smile at her expense.

"What a creature you are," he said. "How long until I can expect reasoned conversation with you?"

"God, don't talk like that," she groused. "You always talk so fancy. It's five in the morning, can't you use small words for once?"

"I am not sure I am capable, Amma Lynn." He clasped his hands behind his back. "It is unbecoming of one such as me."

"Whatever," she muttered, and laid herself out on the couch. She was nearly asleep again, and in another time he might've regretted interrupting her natural progression.

"Who did you speak with, before?" he asked. She opened her eyes and looked at him briefly, then shook her head.

"It wasn't you," she said. "Sorry if I woke you."

She did not think he'd been there. He crouched in front of her, bringing himself nearly eye level with her prone figure, and tilted his head. She opened her eyes again and smiled slightly.

"I should call you Macavity," she said. He decided not to try and decipher that remark. Instead, he said:

"You sounded very afraid, Amma Lynn. Will you force me to tell Stark you refused to speak with me? He is not above accessing the computer system in the walls."

She glanced up at the ceiling. "JARVIS is on my side," she said.

"Of course, Miss Creed," the A.I. said.

"JARVIS is but a program," Loki said, "and Stark is the creator. He can find a way."

"That's true," Lynn said. She had closed her eyes again, and Loki, using the stealth of an unseen hand, reached and stroked hair back from her face. She did not react, and he knew she was fully awake.

"Tell me, Amma Lynn," he said. "Is it Thanos? Do you dream of him still?"

"I never stopped," she whispered into the air. He removed his hand and draped it between his knees. "He hurt me enough."

"Indeed he did," Loki said as he straightened. "And he never will again."

"You can't know that," she said. "Third time's the charm, Loki. He can always find me again."

And Thanos might. The Mad Titan had intended a very specific purpose for the small woman before him. Loki could not imagine that losing her would be a slight easily forgiven.

But Lynn did not need to be aware of such matters.

"He will not," Loki said. "I have ensured it."

She looked up at him, then sat up, her brow furrowed.

"What did you do?" she asked.

"What needed to be done," Loki said. Of course, he had done nothing. "He will not find you, or at least not easily." After a moment's pensive silence, he added as a coup d'état, "Thor would know immediately."

She brightened significantly at the news, blinking hard and biting her bottom lip.

"You've got a spell on me?" she asked, hesitant and uncertain of the proper language. He flinched at the term and she plunged onward. "Something that will, will let Thor know? And you?"

"Heimdall is very observant," Loki said. "He will alert the both of us the moment we are needed, if all else fails." The implication that multiple measures were in place hung between them, and he willed her to believe, to accept the falsehood as truth.

He saw the moment the lie embedded within her mind, the sudden lifting of subconscious fears, replaced by a certain self-assurance. The knowledge that she was watched, and under the protection of powerful beings.

He smiled. It was no easy task to fool this mortal, and he couldn't stop a moment's triumph in his success.

"That's good," she said as she stood from the couch. "That's good to know. Thank you."

He met her eyes and saw the lie reflected back at him. She knew, she _knew_ he was lying, and he was flummoxed for how. His shoulders tensed in annoyance at being so easily caught, but when she smiled it was genuine, confident and lacking anger.

"Thank you," she said again, and entered her room to prepare for the day.

"You know I am lying," he said to her back, as she turned to close the door. "Why are you so pleased?"

"Because you tried," she said, and closed her door.


	3. Privacy

_Author's notes: _

_These vignettes are in no particular order or time frame. Thus, this is set a long while after the events of Phage, in an unspecified future timeframe. Feel free to assume it's as far into the future as you like._

_This is dedicated to my dear loyal fan ZoiLATC10, who has begged for this for over a year now. I suppose after nearly 300,000 words it's justified. Enjoy!_

_Remember that I am taking requests for these vignettes, as a thank you to all of you. I love your ideas!_

* * *

Clint was out of his element, and he hung close to Natasha as they walked toward tonight's venue, his jaw clenched in silent protest of their mission. They lagged behind the others, Tony of course taking point and becoming less restrained the closer they came to a public outing. The assassin shuddered at the thought of Tony entirely comfortable, with no restraining influence save his own lacking self-control. Natasha nudged his side and he sighed.

"Why are we doing this?" he said to Natasha. "If she ever wanted us to come to this kind of thing, she'd have asked."

"Tony would say she doesn't know what she truly wants," Natasha said.

"Tony is full of shit," Barton said. His grumpy exterior was no front; he was _not_ excited about barging in on Lynn unannounced, and already knew what her face would look like when she saw them. The fallen look of disappointment would do nothing to sway Tony's resolve, but Barton didn't like to think of himself as anyone's burden.

He rolled his shoulder and tried to think of other things.

"It'll be good for her to see us supporting her," Steve said from in front of him. The good Captain held to the middle of their merry band, listening to Tony in front and the assassin's behind. They were without aliens or monsters today, as Thor and Bruce were both engaged in other tasks – Thor in tending to Jane's needs via time spent together, and Bruce tending to some sort of experiment he refused to leave in favor of a public venue full of flashing lights, loud noise and, in Bruce's own words, "public nuisances."

"It's only a nuisance once I'm involved," Tony had declared in response, and Bruce had merely looked at him until the inventor melted away to leave him be. Barton envied Bruce his talents when it came to wrangling the inventor, until he remembered why Bruce alone could stand up to Tony's insistence.

As trade-offs went, the assassin could do without.

"You look nice, Natasha," he said. It was she who had raised the immediate question when Tony suggested this outing: _why are we invading Lynn's privacy?_

"We're not," Tony had said. "It's a _public_ show, open to the _public_."

"There's public and there's Tony Stark," Natasha had said.

"Well if she's gonna be shy, she'll know no one's looking at _her_ while I'm around," Tony had said, and Natasha had left it at that. She was dressed up now, a tight skirt topped by a red tank top. Black leggings vanished into calf-high utility boots. The outfit was utilitarian first, attractive second, and Clint suddenly smiled.

"Fandral should see you now," he said. "His eyes might explode."

Natasha smiled.

"He's charming when he's not a rake," she said.

"How often is that?" Clint asked.

"I think it cycles with the moon," Natasha said.

"Asgard has more than one moon, doesn't it?" he asked.

"Exactly," she said, and they both laughed quietly.

"The Earl," Tony read from a sign down the way. "See? I'm great at directions."

"You have JARVIS in your ear," Steve said.

"_Great_ at directions," Tony said with a grin. "The set starts in thirty minutes. Go in now and take over the place, or make a fashionably late entrance?"

"That would be rude," Natasha said. "Go in now, let them adjust to your presence. It's only fair."

"Lynn won't be happy to see us," Clint said. He thought it bore repeating. Tony huffed.

"She'll deal," he said. Steve had the grace to look nervous, although Clint suspected that was more to do with the crowd than Lynn's imminent ire.

"Hey Barton, that Brent kid will be here," Tony said, and Natasha looked to him and raised her eyebrows. Barton felt his focus narrowing immediately upon hearing the reminder, and his concern for Lynn's annoyance vanished in a wave of both curiosity and protective fervor.

"Down, boys," Natasha said.

"No way," Tony said. "Last time I let her guilt me into having her privacy she got kidnapped, _again_. Never forget."

"It wasn't your fault," Steve said.

"Thanks for that," Tony said, with no small amount of grumbling. Clint was busy scanning the entrance of the venue, and ignored their conversation as he focused in on a tall, lurking shadow, ten feet to the right of the entrance, watching their approach.

_Loki._

He was insanely over-dressed for this kind of venue, sporting a suit and coat similar to his outfit in Stuttgart. Still, as a token effort to blend, it did them all better than Asgardian wardrobe could manage, though Clint was loathe to admit the possibility of consideration from the trickster.

"Great," Clint muttered, and Natasha blinked at him. He jutted his chin in the direction of their audience, and she pressed her lips into a thin line.

"I do not believe Amma Lynn will appreciate your barging in on her performance," the trickster said as they drew closer.

"Is that why you're here?" Tony asked him.

"Heimdall mentioned your intentions to me," Loki said. Amusement twisted his features cruelly, or rather, Clint could only see cruelty where humor might be found instead. "Surely you know she will be angry with you?"

He was looking at Barton as he spoke, and Clint shrugged one shoulder, a defeated sort of gesture which needed no further translation.

"Tony decided to come," Natasha said.

"Of course," Loki said, "and where the great inventor goes, his brood must follow. You all are under his employ now, are you not?"

"That's enough," Clint said. His voice was tight.

"Why are you here, Loki?" Steve asked. "Do you come to these?"

"I have not before," the trickster said. Tony looked surprised.

"Not even in smell-o-vision? I thought you were a badass."

"Amma Lynn values this time away from - "

He paused, considering his words. He continued in a moment, his voice stronger and clearer.

"Away from the other elements of her life. She does not mix the two, and would be most upset if you were to disturb that balance."

"Do you plan to beg?" Tony asked. "I'd like to see that."

"No," Loki said. "You may make your own terrible choices without my interference."

"Just say what you want to say," Clint said. "Save us ten minutes."

Loki met his eyes in the same moment Lynn's voice said from behind him, "Tony?"

She stepped into view, glancing at Loki as she moved.

"Steve – oh. Hi Clint, Natasha."

Her expression looked exactly how Clint had imagined it would . He felt ill.

"Are you coming to the show?" she asked. Her voice warbled only once, and she blinked hard three times. Clint watched her take several deep breaths, which she covered by crossing her arms over her chest.

"Quite the outfit, kid," Tony said. She looked like a felony waiting to happen. "The hair's gone blue now, huh?"

She reached up and grabbed a fistful, the streaks barely hidden between her fingers. Clint reached a hand out, which she took. He pulled her into a gentle hug and tucked his chin next to her ear.

"Sorry," he whispered to her. "We didn't want him to come alone."

"OK," she said. She let him go and stepped back. Every part of her looked unhappy, but she smiled at them anyway.

"This band of yours have a name?" Tony asked, ignoring her discomfort. "Is it long and pretentious?"

"Planets on Display," she said hesitantly. Loki raised his eyebrows while the rest of them reacted with varying degrees of approval or confusion.

"An interesting choice," the trickster said, and Lynn looked down at her feet.

"We just do covers," she said carefully. "Working on some original stuff, but covers are more fun."

"Any favorites?" Steve asked. He spoke gently, his voice a soothing murmur. She glanced behind herself, then shrugged both shoulders and dropped her hand from her hair. Her entire countenance abruptly shifted, and she nodded.

"Yeah," she said, her voice solid now. Clint straightened a bit at the tone. "I'm playing one tonight, last solo. It always gets a good response."

"Will you let us in?" Natasha asked. Tony narrowed his eyes at her, but Lynn looked outright relieved.

"You're asking?" she said.

"No," Tony began.

"Yes," Steve said, and shook his head in Tony's direction. "We're asking. We'd like to see you play, Lynn."

She looked between all of them, and then at Loki for good measure.

"And you?" she asked. "Would this be your first time?"

"I have never come to your performances, Amma Lynn," the trickster said. "I would enjoy watching you on stage, I think, if you'll have me."

"You have to be nice to everyone," she said. Loki scowled. "I'm serious – everyone. No matter what. If you can't, you can go home."

"I will do my best," he said shortly.

"Do better," she snapped at him. They all waited, watching the two face off. Lynn looked sternly up at the alien creature, who was twice her size and likely four times her weight. The heir of death, bringer of Ragnarok, and shaper of all things. A being who Clint had once called _sir_, to his eternal quiet dismay.

Loki tilted his head to her, and Natasha tensed to see it.

"Very well, Amma Lynn," he said quietly. "I will abide."

"I won't bother with you," Lynn said to Tony, the tension in the air now dissipated with Loki's agreement. "Don't bring the house down, OK?"

"No promises," Tony said with a grin. Lynn led them to the entrance and whispered to the bouncer, who nodded and looked over her guests. He stopped when he saw Tony, who grinned and waved two fingers at him.

"Holy shit," the bouncer said.

"It's alright, Stag," Lynn said. "He's with me."

"Can I – I'm sorry, look, Lynn, just a second – can I have your sig? My little girl, she's a _huge_ fan -"

"Yeah, of course," Tony said. He took the pen and paper thrust at him with only the slightest grimace and scrawled his name, then handed both to Steve.

"You too, Cap," he said, and the bouncer jolted again.

"Holy _shit_," he said.

"Stag, please," Lynn murmured, and Stag fought to gather himself. He pointed at the other three, eyes narrowing a bit.

"You two I know," he said to Clint and Natasha, "but I'm not sure about you. Were you there in New York, too?"

Loki glanced at Lynn, who only raised her eyebrows.

"No," Loki said, "of course not." The bouncer waved them through.

Once inside, Lynn melted into the background, making for the back area where the remaining band members were preparing for their set. Rather than work the crowd, Tony ordered a round for the entire bar in one go and claimed a round table close to the back of the building. He sat facing the crowd, and winked at women who passed the table.

"You are quite the menace," Loki said to him. He had taken a seat which allowed him the best view of the stage, where the band would play, and fidgeted in his seat.

"Admit it, Dennis," Tony said to him. "You just wanted to try tagging along."

"One does not squander opportunities given freely," the trickster said haughtily.

"I think that's a yes," Clint said.

* * *

"Loki, I don't think you should stay for this one," Lynn said to the trickster several minutes later. She had pulled him aside, glanced over his clothing, and appeared to make some kind of decision regarding his appearance. And yet when she spoke, she made no sense.

"You do not wish me to be here?" he asked.

"I – that's another discussion, some other time. Tonight's theme is going to be rough on you, I think." She was holding the edge of her shirt, tugging at the frayed seams. He knew this to be a nervous habit of hers.

"What is the theme?" he asked, perplexed at her concern.

"Uh," she said. "Well, we called the show 'Teenage Dirtbag,' we're covering really specific types of songs -"

"I will manage, Amma Lynn," Loki said. She sighed, and let him be. He noticed that her friends poured her several tall glasses of amber liquid resembling watered down mead, which she drank happily.

She was happy, in her element and among friends, and some part of him ached to see it. He looked away instead of watching her, to find Barton watching _him_ with that keen hawk's stare of his.

Loki, in a less inhibited moment, shrugged one shoulder and raised an eyebrow. Barton only smiled in response.

When the first song began, he abruptly understood - and regretted not heeding - Lynn's warning. The table around him silenced; even Stark, the incessant prattler, quieted down in light of the musical queues. Loki was reminded that of the assembled at the table, only he still claimed any kind of living kin.

He felt humbled, grateful and angry, all at once.

_Damn you, Frigga,_ he thought ardently. Would her influences never cease? To say nothing of his wretched false father, whom he tolerated on the best of days and loved wholeheartedly on the worst. Still, he had survived them both, their lives as well as their truths, and would continue to do so indefinitely, for that was his nature.

He did not think of Thor at all.

* * *

Tony left during the first intermission. He waited until Lynn approached the table, hugged her tight to his side with one arm, and whispered into her ear. She nodded, once, and smiled at him. He handed her a drink, which she accepted, then pressed a wad of money into Steve's hand before removing himself for the night. Barton and Natasha left with him, and Steve stayed to pay the tab.

"It's great music, Lynn," Steve said as he settled into the table again. "I'll stay for another few songs, OK?"

"It's pretty heavy," she said. "You guys chose the worst night to come. Next week is the seventies, better for a good time."

"I have had nothing but a pleasant time," Loki said tightly. Lynn looked at him, looked _through_ him, and said nothing.

"Lynn, let's go," Brent said from behind. She set her glass down, half-empty, and took once more to the stage.

"You're staying all night?" Steve asked him. Loki was prepared with a pithy retort, but a glance at the Captain revealed that Steve was on the job. He wanted to ensure that someone who could protect her would stay behind. Loki was tempted to point out that Lynn had been participating in this event for years at this point, without any intervention from her powerful allies, but Steve's earnestness was a hard thing to overcome.

"I will stay," Loki said, and the good Captain visibly relaxed. Loki imagined that a visible checkmark appeared in his mind once all of his mortal charges were accounted for. Stark was being escorted by the assassins, Loki would watch over Lynn, and Steve…

"Do you have anyone to watch for your return, Captain?" Loki asked. He raised his eyebrows when Steve flushed, having expected a simple smile or casual response.

"I see," Loki said. "Is the fair Lady Sif in this realm, I wonder?"

"She's resting," Steve said vaguely, and Loki nodded to hide his triumphant leer.

"How predictable," he said, and Steve glanced at him. "She is powerful, and often wise – you will break her with your death, when the time comes."

"How often do you think about Lynn dying?" Steve asked. He wasn't being unkind; he wasn't even trying to return Loki's jab, or wound him out of spite. The good Captain merely wanted to know, from one man to another, and Loki felt the blow as acutely as a physical shock.

"Often," he rasped. "I will have to do it, you know. When the time comes." _When she asks_.

"We have them now," Steve said with a sad, tired smile. "Focus on that; don't think about the rest."

"I wonder if Thor says much the same to himself," Loki said.

"Where do you think I heard it?" Steve said, and Loki fell silent at the revelation.

* * *

"Yeah, I'll be there in a second Brent," Lynn said as she slid into the empty chair next to him. Steve had left several minutes before, excusing himself with polite affability and the promise to do this again sometime. Loki could not stop himself from noticing Lynn's proximity, and drew his legs and arms closer together to avoid brushing against her and disturbing her apparent equilibrium. The eponymous Brent and the rest of her band mates took a moment to look him over, and he offered them a thin, semi-threatening smile. He winced in another moment and glanced to Lynn, who instead of scolding regarded him with a worried look.

"Are you OK?" she asked, as though she did not care that he had been contemplating the various and sundry benefits of flaying her more nosy friends alive in front of the fine patrons of this establishment. Of course she did not know such things, for they were his thoughts alone – and abruptly, he realized that even if she did know, she might not react anyway.

Strange little thing she was.

"I am fine," he said when she didn't look away after several drawn-out silent seconds. "I am a grown adult, Amma Lynn, perfectly capable of managing the effects of a song."

She gave him an exasperated, knowing huff, and he wondered why he bothered the attempt.

"Very well," he said more quietly, "you were not incorrect. The music was…affecting. I will take note in the future: when you give a fair warning, I should heed it."

"I thought that one might be a little on the nose for you," she said. "You sure you're OK?"

"I am not a child," he snarled.

"Says you," Lynn said, leaning back in her chair and smiling. She'd had several drinks by now, and her tongue was bolder as a result. "The way you act, sometimes I wonder."

"Dare I ask what you mean?" He wanted to know, and yet didn't at the same time. Strange, strange little creature.

"How long do your people live?" she asked. "I mean, dogs live shorter lives so they mature faster – something that lives a longer life probably matures slower, right?"

She looked him right in the eye when she completed the statement, daring him to take offense.

"I guess you just finished your angry teenaged years, huh?"

And he _did_ take offense, until she grinned and winked at him before sliding out from the table and turning to join her friends. He watched her go, considering her movements, her frayed outfit, her oddities. He stood to follow her, and caught her arm as she walked past the stage to pull her aside.

"I wish to speak with you," he said quietly. "The song you played, the last -"

"I love that song," she said. "Every woman loves that song. You hated it didn't you?"

He considered his words carefully. "It is only, the creature of that music – she is nothing like you. She is imbalanced, and unpleasant, which are both traits you cannot claim."

Lynn stared up at him, her pupils blown from too much alcohol and stage adrenaline. Her band mates were scattered throughout the tavern, their attentions elsewhere.

"You think I'm not like her?" she said. "I feel like her sometimes. I feel like I should hit you sometimes. Isn't that wrong?"

"Any bruises between us have always been in the shape of my hands," he said. "You are a better person than that, Amma Lynn."

He looked down at her, and she looked up at him, and the longing to lean down nearly overwhelmed him. He braced himself, steeling his spine against the inclination – and it all became moot when her hand reached up to curl behind his neck and pull him down to meet her lips.

He shuddered at the contact, hesitant and uncertain of his place in her mind. He did not know if she were motivated by his rare kindness, his honest admiration of her character, or a simple matter of intoxication. He refused to guess at the reasons, and as a result found himself plotting and planning, playing out elaborate conversations or moments in his head which might have led her to make this decision, at this time, here and now in this place.

She slid a hand along his waist, and his theories crumbled to dust as he pressed her back against the wall, hungry fire fueling his movements. He could not see anything except her, her face and hands and stubborn, tenacious hope, and he couldn't think, he couldn't think, he couldn't _think _–

* * *

_The show is cheekily named after "Teenage Dirtbag" by Wheatus. A fun song!_

_The song which Loki is most adversely affected by is "Alive" by Pearl Jam. _

_The song which Loki harshly criticizes is "Strong Enough" by Sheryl Crow._


	4. Presence

Loki stepped from the in-between into a hallway and nearly stumbled over a parcel left before Lynn's door. He scowled at the box and its gaudy _STARK INDUSTRIES _logo scrawled across the top, and wondered if Lynn would ever realize it had gone missing should it vanish. He reached down and took up the package, his scowl unchanged, and knocked three times on the door. He prepared himself to berate her for leaving such a large _thing_ outside to block entry to her home, and puffed his chest when the door swung wide, breathing deeply.

He paused at the scent of saline and narrowed his eyes at her. She looked blearily up at him, a small carton of thin papers gripped from oval top opening in two of her fingers. One such paper was wadded into her other hand, pressed between the knob and her palm. Her eyes were red.

He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head. Without a word, he offered the package to her, and she leaned forward to read the inscription. She sighed and stepped aside to give him room to enter, nodding the tip of her chin toward the fortified coffee table in the center of what mortals called a _living room_. Loki didn't know how mortals in general used this sort of space, but Lynn herself did quite a bit of living in this very room.

He set the package down as she closed the door. When he turned, she still stood at the door, her forehead leaned against the cold metal. Not wood, no – Stark had insisted on fortified walls and doors after the break-in, and Lynn was now encased in Asgardian steel. Stark and Steve Rogers had both worked together to redesign the architecture surrounding her to brace the new-found weight, and Stark had given in when she insisted that she was not the only resident of this building who deserved better protections.

Not one break-in since reconstruction. Stark had realized the potential inherent in the design, and now worked with Steve to sell their brand with Asgardian backing, as part of the newly established trade agreements with the Golden Realm.

Loki often found the remnants of Asgard nestled within the mortal realm tedious. Lynn seemed ambivalent to many of them, but her connection to Tony Stark was well-known now, and she had become something of a supplier for her local friends. Loki, ignoring the water staining her face, motioned to the box.

"Another trinket for your hungry hordes of loyal opportunists?"

Lynn laughed quietly and sat at the couch. She set the box and thin paper to the side and tried tearing the tape open with her bare hands, rather than seek out a sharp tool to cut the sturdy plastic. Loki sat next to the parcel and tore it open for her. She leaned forward and creased her brow. It was Loki who perked upon seeing the contents.

"What is it?" she asked him, as he reached in and withdrew the long rectangular object. Three strings with tuning nails hovered above the wooden frame. He plucked at one and smiled at the disjointed note.

"It is a fidla, an instrument used in the great halls while spinning a yarn for the common folk," he said. He plucked the other two strings to find them well in tune, and played several notes in quick succession with the bow. Lynn's eyes grew wide as she listened.

"You call that music?" she asked, her tone strangled as she attempted to sound less than horrified. Loki laughed.

"You are imaging it incorrectly, I think. You must remember to hear the voices of dozens upon dozens of battle-weary Æsir, their wits dulled from far too much mead." As he spoke those same voices rose, and she leaned back in her oddly shaped chair, eyes shining with intrigue. She enjoyed his illusions when he bothered to share him, and he used his abilities sparingly in her presence. He thought she had seen quite enough of them to last her several lifetimes, and yet each time he allowed his seiðr to flow, she lit up with the same enthusiasm.

He realized this meant the limitations were entirely his, and refused to ponder further on the possible meaning of such a truth.

"Tell me a story," she asked of him, and so he did, the fidla providing a discordant background to a simple tale of a prince and princess working together to outwit a foolish giant with no heart.

"It makes everything so ominous," she said when he finished. He offered her the instrument, certain of her care for such a thing and that her mortal hands could not harm Asgardian wood besides.

"Especially if you are drunk while listening to the tale," Loki said. "You can imagine their faces, mouths agape with shock and horror as the giant's body falling to the earth rumbles through the floor beneath them."

"You can do that?" she asked him, setting the fidla back inside of the box.

"Certainly not," he said haughtily, and she laughed.

"Not that they know of," she said with a vague smile.

Loki folded his hands and leaned forward ever so slightly. The movement was enough to make her eye him with unease.

"If you ask, I'll tell you," she said quietly. "But you won't like it."

"Tell me, Amma Lynn, and let me decide what I think of it," Loki said. Lynn sighed. Her fingers picked at the thin paper from the box.

"Tony's not in danger, and the rest of them are fine too, aren't they?" she said. "Would you take me to that island again?"

He leaned back, his fingers twitching. She wasn't looking at him.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," she said, and he stood and offered her a hand.

"Remember to hold your breath," he said, and she laughed as he reached for Yggdrasil's child and pulled them into the nothing. They emerged moments later on a dimly lit shore, far away from Midgard and its assorted problems. She released his hand and buried her toes inside of the silt beneath them. He hadn't realized she was barefoot.

He conjured her a pair of boots, but she waved them away and walked to the water, standing just outside of range of the waves. She'd brought the box of thin papers with her, and set it at her feet as she stared off into a distance. She looked down when a crab-like creature crawled over her foot, and smiled fondly at the sight. Loki stepped up next to her and watched the sun-like star sink ever lower in the sky.

"Are you hungry?" he asked after a time, and she nodded once. He settled them both together, and lit a fire with a green flash of power. The food he had would not need the heat, but the temperature in the realm dropped dramatically the moment the heat source was gone. Already he could see his breath, and the wet sand nearby gleamed in icy patches. Lynn cleaned her feet by the fire and slipped on the boots. He provided her a cloak, which she wore as a large blanket, and offered a meat-filled pastry next. They ate together, in silence, while the fire crackled between them.

"Mrs. Turner is dying," she said when she was finished. "She was high risk; the Ridley caused her to relapse, and she…"

Lynn's voice trailed off. She was staring directly at him, over the fire, and the flames lit her eyes.

"She's got three to six months," she said. "Not long at all. Their youngest is still in middle school."

"Tell me about them," Loki said, and Lynn told him of the scant years she shared with the Turners, of their warm, welcoming home and their continued calls long after Lynn was no longer part of their lives. She spoke fondly of the children, twice slipping in her language and calling them "sisters" rather than "foster sisters." She told him of the mother's struggle with a disease he had never heard of, and when he asked for further information, she spoke freely of _metastasizing cells _and _chemotherapy_.

"Mortals are a fragile lot," he said when she was finished, and she picked at the tips of her boots.

"Most of us," she said, and he tensed.

"Will you request to go with her, when the time comes?" he asked her, and she jolted at the direct reference to his future role in her life.

"No," she said firmly, "that would be terrible. Mr. Turner will need help with the girls, and I -"

"You are not one of them, are you?" Loki asked.

"They're the family I've got," she said, and he sighed and leaned away.

"That is hardly true," he said. "I believe Stark has claimed responsibility for you in every way."

"Tony's not my father," she said. "He's more like an eccentric uncle."

"Ah," Loki said with a smile. "Those are never in short supply."

"You're doing better with this than I thought you would," Lynn said. Loki considered this, and tilted his head back to look at the myriad of stars on display.

"Yes," he said, "I think I have come to accept what I cannot change."

"You sound like Thor," she said, and he peered at her.

"Come over here," he said, "I can hardly see you." The waves lapped at the shore, flecks of ice now joining the constant spray of seawater. Their fire evaporated those which came too close. She stood and walked around the circle to join him, and sat next to him.

"It's strange," he said after a moment. "I do not know what it would be like, to be surrounded by death so regularly."

"I thought you fought wars," Lynn said. He chuckled.

"That is not the same," he said. "My family and…friends were never in constant danger, as yours are. To be cut down by something within – it's an insult, isn't it?"

"It feels like it," she said. Her fingers clenched the cloak tight around her shoulders. She had left the box of papers near the shore.

"I am truly sorry, Amma Lynn," Loki said. "That must be very difficult for you."

"I want you to meet her," she said. Loki looked down at her. "I want her to see you in person. She's heard about you enough."

"Are you certain?" he asked. "I cannot promise to behave."

"You can be charming when you want to," Lynn said with a sniff. "Pretend it's a diplomatic meeting. Or an enemy."

"Ah," he said, "_that_ is easy enough."

"Mr. Turner doesn't hate you," she said.

"He merely disapproves of your association with a man who 'can't bother to be named something normal,'" he said.

"You should've heard what he said about working with Bruce," Lynn said. She sounded amused. "That conversation was awful."

"I can understand his concerns," Loki said. "I may have shared a few."

"I'm a grown adult, you know," she said wearily.

"So it would seem," Loki said. He kept his arms firmly grounded at his sides, unwilling to break the easy camaraderie of the moment. It was Lynn who leaned into him and settled her head on his shoulder, and it was she who tilted his head down and met his lips with her own.

"You are under no obligations, Amma Lynn," he said when she broke away from him. "We are alone here."

"One of those isn't related to the other," she said. She was stroking his arm, and his mind was swimming.

"That is your doing," he said. She pushed at his shoulders, and he moved as she guided him.

"I'm grieving," she said. "Shut up."

And so he kept his silence, and allowed her to grieve as she wished.

When they found the box in the morning, the crab-like creature had claimed it for his own, and they left it to the will of the distant realm, where secrets could never be found.


	5. Ground Rules

Slowly, almost painfully, Lynn opened her eyes and let consciousness wash back over her. She was facing the dying embers of Loki's fire, and Loki himself stood further off, washing his feet in the cooled morning shore.

She gathered herself up from the ground and circled the embers to follow him, sand clinging in odd places both under and over her clothing. She stood back, away from the active currents, only allowing her toes to feel the damp wet soaked into the silt. Loki was silent for a time, and she watched as he calmly brushed himself clean.

"It's not cold?" she finally ventured, her voice quiet from sleep and exhaustion.

"Not to me," he said. "I would not recommend washing yourself here, Amma Lynn. It is too chilly for your mortal body to withstand."

"That might've been true a year ago," she said. His hands paused at the reminder, and then he glanced back her way. She knew she looked disheveled, and hardly appealing, but she saw only fondness there.

"True," he said after a moment. "I would rather not test your shortcomings."

"I think I'm staying," Lynn said. Loki stood, brushing the final particles from his cleaned hands, and shook his head slightly.

"That is not a decision to be made lightly, and I think that now is not the time," he said.

"Are you trying to talk me out of it?"

"I am trying to make sure that the decision is wholly yours, with no outside factors," he said. He glanced at her. "You would never forgive me, if you thought I had persuaded you quietly. Or in any way at all."

"That's true." Lynn crouched and hovered her hands over the dead fire; the heat was long gone, and she shivered. "It's almost like you know me."

Loki chuckled and offered her a hand. "I'll take you home, so that you may clean yourself in familiar surroundings."

"And with warm water," she said with a smile.

"Of course," Loki said, and stepped them across Yggdrasil's child.

* * *

Coming home always ended in a moment of disorientation, as Lynn oriented herself to whatever spot Loki had brought them to. Now she stepped out into the light of her living room to find herself face-to-face with Tony and Steve, who appeared to have been in the middle of an intense conversation when she blipped into existence.

She froze upon seeing them, hands tightening on the cloak she was still wearing. Tony narrowed his eyes while Steve raised his eyebrows, and she shuffled her feet nervously.

"What the _hell_," Tony said.

"Stark," Loki said from behind her. "Captain."

"Hello, Loki," Steve said. "May I have a word?"

Loki's hand brushed across her shoulder; they were being separated, and she was getting the raw end of the deal. She sighed and jerked her head towards her own room, silently beckoning Tony to follow her as she walked inside. She closed the door behind him, took a deep breath, and turned around.

"Looks like we interrupted something serious," she said carefully.

"You don't get to disappear for an entire day without checking in, kid," Tony said. His voice was tight with concern. "Vanishing, _bad_."

Lynn hated to delay the inevitable, and she knew what the real issue was. She leaned against the door and watched him pace, irritable and disapproving.

"I was safe," she said, and he laughed.

"Safe. Right. I don't think you know what that actually means anymore. We've broken your safety meter."

"Go on," Lynn said. "Say it. I know you want to."

Tony grimaced. "I was trying to work my way up to it."

Lynn waited.

"Look, kid," he said. His ears were slowly turning red. "I worry that one day you'll wake up and realize you're next to a mass murderer."

"You don't know what happened," she said. Tony looked at her until she sighed, rubbing a hand across her forehead.

"I'll talk to Pepper about it," Lynn said. Tony paused in his pacing, shooting her a sharp glance. She shrugged, saying nothing because he knew what she meant.

"Point," he said after a few moments.

"You're not going to ask, are you?" she said.

"The answer's plain enough," he said. "I'm great at context."

"That isn't even sort of true," she said, pushing away from the door. She unwrapped the cloak and folded it into a tight square, laying it against the bed. Tony picked it up and set it on her dresser instead. She watched him, and he shook his head once, silently begging her to keep quiet.

"Cap should be done," he said instead. "Awkward conversations all around."

"Steve wouldn't do that," Lynn said as she opened the door. Tony made a strange noise behind her, a sort of wheezed cough that morphed into a sigh.

"Right," he muttered. "He's the hero."

The scene waiting for her in the main den gave her pause. Instead of an annoyed Loki scowling at Steve, she found the two men bent together. Their conspiratorial mutters halted when she entered, and Loki's eyebrows rose when Stark nodded slightly

"What is going on?" she asked. Too late, she realized that both Steve and Loki were blocking the door.

"The good Captain is expressing concern," Loki said. He didn't look the least bit chagrined or apologetic, and Lynn was too exhausted to feel betrayed. She turned to the kitchen instead, and opened the refrigerator to decide what was available.

"Lynn, you know what we're worried about," Steve said from the den. He and Tony had followed her while Loki remained behind, the only man in the room not crowding her with unsolicited opinions. She felt a headache brewing, and pulled a cantaloupe out.

"I have some thoughts," she said as she set the melon against the counter. It rolled a few inches toward the edge, and she stopped it with a finger while drawing a cutting blade from the knife rack. Tony watched the edge of the blade slice the melon cleanly in two while Steve plunged onward, oblivious to any current undertones.

"You need to take better care of yourself," Steve said, ignoring any semblance of easing into the topic. Lynn paused and raised her eyebrows, looking at the two men. Steve at least had the decency to look sheepish.

"Have you had this talk with Tony?" she asked, spooning out the seeds into a wet paper towel. "Or Bruce?"

"Tony has someone else to watch out for him," Steve said. "Bruce has Tony to nag him; it's you who stands alone here."

"I'm never alone," Lynn said. She chopped half of the melon in two and offered each half to one of the men. Both accepted without comment, knowing better than to refuse food in Lynn's kitchen.

"Look at all the company I have," she said. "Even when I'm alone, I'm not alone, and Loki -"

"Stark has been monitoring your vitals through the computer system," Loki said, now leaning against the wall across from her. She raised her eyebrows and looked at Tony, who rolled his eyes.

"Don't look so violated, it's standard," he said.

"I thought JARVIS was on my side," she said.

"You forgot who made him," Tony said. "Look kid, we're trying to not require anything here, but you're making this hard."

"You can't make me do anything," Lynn said tightly.

"I can and I will," Tony said. "I'm not above rationing."

"Rationing?" Steve asked. His eyebrows were nearly touching the tip of his hairline.

"He's the boss," Lynn said. She sat at her table and folded her arms, gripping either elbow. She would wait them out on this, if they were so determined.

"It's been four years," Tony said. He sat across from her, assuming his usual sprawl backward. Even chagrined and eating a melon, he took up the entire space.

"It has," she said carefully.

"And your bloodwork –"

"Is the same," she finished more quietly. Tony glanced at Steve, who was leaning against the refrigerator.

"Bruce told us, Lynn," Steve said. Lynn flinched and looked down at the table. She let go of her one elbow and scratched at the woodgrain with her fingernail. "Loki confirmed it."

"I bet he did," she said.

"It is better that they know, Amma Lynn," Loki said. "They need not treat you as spun glass."

Lynn thought quietly, and all that she felt was anger. She was tired of all of them making decisions for her; she thought they'd learned better.

"You can all leave now," she said. Her voice was barely a whisper. "Get out."

Steve looked pained. "Lynn, we –"

"_Please_ get out," she said, and Steve couldn't say no to that. Loki folded his arms, on the cusp is respecting her wishes. It was Tony who leaned forward, narrowed his eyes, and said, "no."

Lynn looked up and met his eyes, anger burning through her. "What?"

"I said no," Tony said. "And I'll say it until you stop trying. Four years, kid. We gave you your space, and even _Loki _knew, but you –"

"He knew because he was there," she said angrily. "He was there when it happened. Bruce, he – he _guessed_, but he promised he wouldn't tell –"

"Well, I asked him about your bloodwork and it came up," Tony said.

"What does it matter?" Lynn asked. "It doesn't change anything. I'm going to, to live a normal life, and –"

"And everyone you love will grow old around you," Steve said. "We'll all be gone one day, and it'll be sooner than you think."

"Not all of you," Lynn said, glancing at Loki.

"Thor knows?" Steve asked.

"Thor is aware of many things," Loki said, with some irritation. "He is more observant in recent times."

"Anyone else?" Tony asked.

"Not unless you count Thanos," Lynn said.

"_Fuck's _sake, kid," Tony said, "we just want to take _care_ of you."

She wanted to say she could take care of herself, but she was living off of his dime and everyone here knew it. She sighed.

"Maybe I need more time," she said. "Maybe I just want some time to think."

Loki was watching her closely, his eyes boring into her. She looked down.

"It's reversible," she said quietly.

"How?" Steve asked, while Tony said, "_What?" _

"Loki can fix me," she said, and Tony scoffed. "Thor can too, if needed. I have a way out if…"

If it became too much. If watching them all die was too hard. If if if. Lynn wanted to rest.

"Thor can fix you," Steve said slowly, carefully, as though testing the knowledge out.

"Amma Lynn is too wise to trust me alone with her fate," Loki said. Tony snorted.

"Then I guess we got no problems," he said with a scowl.

"No," Lynn said. "We don't."


	6. Dog and Pony

"Do you ever consider the difference in your life, if there had been a family present?" Loki asked. He was standing in the doorway of her bedroom, observing as she fussed with her purple-streaked hair in the mirror. She was playing with various methods of wear, and while Loki held no claim on her, he quietly preferred her hair down and swept back, as though wind had tousled the strands loose. Unmoored and free, and untethered by a mortal's responsibilities. As she had looked on the morning –

He interrupted his own thoughts by focusing once more on the present. Lynn held several wire pins in her mouth, and placed them on either side of her head. The style she was working toward seemed overly complicated. When she had placed enough of the pins for speech, she glanced at him.

"You know I do," she said with some confusion. "We've talked about it before."

"Ah, yes – a dream within a dream. I had forgotten." Loki glanced to the dresser, where a small bowl housed a green, billowy fish she dubbed Winehouse. She had taken to collecting the small creatures, and while he did not share her special fondness for them, he enjoyed her amusement when he bothered to feed the things.

"You did not," she said with a dismissive sniff. "You never forget anything."

"I have honed my memory into a finely tuned weapon," he said. "It is important for the Silvertongue to remember every yarn spun, and the details used."

"Lying gave you a better memory?" Lynn laughed. "Maybe we shouldn't tell kids not to do it."

"The punishment received when you are caught is incentive enough to not repeat the experience," he said.

"What was the worst punishment you ever got?" she asked. She had settled on a half-risen style, with the top layer of her hair bundled in the back in a careless knot and the remainder cascading against her shoulders. She did not have long flowing locks, as were favored by the women of Asgard. She often changed the accents as well, flipping between different colors as her whims directed her.

The dress intrigued him due to its simplicity. He was accustomed to intricate folds, complex weaving and dazzling jewels. He suspected that this garb was chosen with assistance from Natasha Romanov: a vibrant yet dark blue gown which fit Lynn's figure well. There were no belts, buckles or other items attached to the fabric, letting dress and woman stand alone as the primary focus. Natasha was an expert in enticing male distraction, and it seemed that her silent confidence was rubbing off on Lynn Creed. Though he hadn't known her before her abduction years ago, he knew that the woman sitting before him was an entirely different entity than the woman of time past.

Of course, Lynn Creed had undergone changes beneath the skin as well. While she was in essence still human, she lacked the defining trait of her species: mortality. With longevity in hand, she became emboldened and daring, and he had lost the last vestige of the basis for his emotional resistance.

He dared not speak of such things aloud. She was too at ease with him now to chance it. There was neither drink nor grief between them now, and she allowed him to watch her prepare for the evening with barely a second thought. A trusted ally; a friend. He watched the curve of her hip.

"The barb of a belt," he lied. "Even an Asgardian prince will succumb to such a fate."

"Some royalty had whipping boys," she said absently. "A kid who took the beating for the prince, because a royal butt couldn't be hit."

Loki said nothing.

"You can come, if you want," Lynn said, almost too casual. Loki felt tension between them, and did not know which response would alleviate her feelings. He answered honestly and hoped it would be enough.

"I believe it is time for me to learn more of your mortal customs," he said carefully. "I would appreciate inclusion, if that is what you prefer."

"Couldn't a 'yes' be enough?" she grumbled, but it was playful rather than annoyed, and he felt relieved for it.

"I suppose," Loki said. "Although I am not known for short descriptions with little information."

Lynn was smiling to herself, humming a quiet tune as she settled on a final hair style for the evening. He wanted to believe that she was content because of, rather than in spite of, his presence, but he knew this was a childish, selfish sort of desire.

"You have not told me how I should dress," he said.

"I trust you," she said, and smiled.

* * *

Tony liked her to come to these galas. He claimed that her talents and intelligence were his advertisements for his educational programs. She suspected her gender and skin color played a role as well, but Tony would never admit as much.

She didn't lie to herself, though. She felt a surge of pride when she stepped into the charity ball, her spine straight with confidence, and the assorted gathering turned to regard the newcomer. Some dismissed her immediately with slightly tweaked eyebrows; others eyed the man at her side, assuming that he was the reason for their presence.

Some knew better immediately. She heard her name and turned, waving to Jane Foster from across the room.

"Lynn!" Jane hurried across the room to greet her, a half-step off of bounding. Loki sighed at her side and she laughed.

"Be nice," she muttered.

"Must she always be so enthused?"

"Lynn!" Jane reached them, looped her arm through Lynn's free arm and tugged. Lynn raised her eyebrows at Loki, detaching herself from him at Jane's urging. The two women moved toward a group of like-minded researchers while Tony slid into view.

Loki braced himself, but the inventor only huffed a tired breath.

"Hate this shit," he said. "Did she drag you out here as penance?"

"I have nothing to atone for," Loki said. "I have behaved myself, as requested."

"The night's young," Tony said. "And I didn't mean penance for you."

"What is the purpose of this?" Loki looked around the room, the decorations coating the tables, the food he guessed was considered expensive by mortal standards.

"Dog and pony," Tony said, sipping a significant amount of his liquor. "Donations for educational programs I sponsor."

"Could you not fund these programs yourself?" Loki had thought that Stark's wealth was seemingly infinite.

"I could," Tony said. "But then these assholes wouldn't have a chance to feel like decent human beings for once."

Loki shook his head. "If I were to say such things, you would not tolerate it."

"I didn't kill off one eighth of the world population." Tony finished his current beverage and waved for another. A servant quickly approached, changing out the empty bottle for a fresh brew. Tony took a second bottle. Loki watched the inventor consume half of one in a single long swig, then looked down at the second, offered to him with a steady hand.

Loki took the drink without comment, thinking his feelings obscured. Tony glanced at him and winked.

"Back to the fray," Tony said, pulling away from the trickster. Loki thought of pulling himself further apart, haunting the room from the sides and watching Lynn's progress throughout the crowd. His compulsions pushed him further in, urging him to start conversations and educate himself on these, the elite of the human world. He was surprised to see students such as Lynn mingling openly with their financial betters, and slid close to one such conversation to suss out the reason. He quickly found himself thrust into a deeply engaging conversation regarding the observation of gravitational waves, and a recent break-through in the field. Based on the level of enthusiasm and occasional spittle from the student speaker, a significant break-through.

Loki had experienced the mind of a physicist through Selvig, a connection which made translating this conversation vastly less of a challenge. Many of the properties he considered seiðr these mortals referred to as physics, and while the terminology was different, the ideas were fundamentally similar. Where human understanding struggled was in concepts such as this - they theorized that gravity moved in waves, carrying with it implications for time throughout the universe. Simply put, a collapsed star billions of lightyears away caused gravitational waves throughout the solar system, which took millions of years to reach locations such as Earth. If these waves, diminished in power but still present, could be detected, then universal origins could be directly studied. A mathematic window into the past.

Loki had been present at these very events, at his brother's side and serving as a guiding voice while Thor wove his abundant optimism into the very fabric of space and time. Now Loki stood transfixed, listening to that same optimism echoed across millennia through the lips of a young man with a ponytail and a full beard, bursting with the possibilities this break-through could represent.

He stood just outside the conversation now, one step removed from participation. He felt the desire to join well within him, to connect with these mortals on a deeper level than merely observation. Hesitantly, gently, Loki corrected one of the student's assumptions, causing the three involved to turn and regard him directly.

The student pondered a moment, then responded, undeterred by Loki's assertion. Loki responded in kind, joined by one of the older conversationalists. In moments, the four of them were healthily debating opposing viewpoints, and Loki, for several minutes, felt engagement with these ideas and ideals seep through his thoughts.

The student, Carter, pulled in two of his compatriots, Jackson and Reed, who were thrilled to join in the lively discussion. Minutes extended into an hour, and then longer as Jane Foster herself joined in the conversation. Lynn had taken her leave of the physicist earlier, and was standing in a similarly enthusiastic group. Loki did not know what they were discussing, as he was fully involved in his own conversation.

Stark joined them, suspicion clouding his features as he watched Loki closely. The students present paused and stuttered through introductions with the famous inventor, but were quickly rerouted when Tony asked what they were previously discussing. A deeper conversation commenced, with Tony speaking from an engineer's point of view while the young men spoke from a place of physics. Loki laughed outright at some of their shared assumptions, only to find that these assumptions were considered fundamental laws of the universe. He fought the urge to use seiðr several times in order to prove his point, instead finding ways to discuss his experiences as theoretical realities rather than fact. Jane Foster laughed and declared, "He's going quantum boys," but then engaged in his ideas as though they were within the realm of possibility - a fact she well knew, having experienced his seiðr herself years past.

Tony engaged as well, and with their collaborative efforts, Loki found himself able to discuss his magics directly without speaking of them by name.

It was a fascinating exercise.

When the conversation reached a natural lull, Carter peered at the older members of their group and lamented, "These ideas are too good not to study. Dr. Foster, do you work on this?"

"No," Jane said. "It's harder than you think. I don't have access to the supplies needed." She glanced Loki's way at this declaration, but Tony outright smirked at the trickster. In a less enlightened crowd, these expressions would have lost any significance. Carter's friend Jackson did not miss a beat.

"You have methods to study these theories?" he asked. His eyes were bright with hope as he peered at the trickster, and Loki felt a small tug of regret for having to lie to the young man.

"No," he said, and Tony snorted. "Not directly. Only ideas and principles -"

"Which can be represented mathematically," Carter said. He was warming to the idea. "If you ever want a collaborator -"

"That's enough excitement for tonight," Tony said. He raised a hand, signalling to a nearby waiter. His words were only slightly slurred, but Loki had watched him drink at least seven of these liquor-laced drinks during this very conversation. "We're about to be run out. I only rented this space until one."

Several watches or phones were checked. Loki watched Tony closely as the inventor shooed away the group, but not before two of the potential donors presented him with their cards and the three students provided their emails on a hastily torn napkin. Tony took all of this information with the same casual smile he always wore, and did not pass any of it along to Loki once their group was dispersed.

Jane raised her eyebrows, then gave Loki a friendly hug before taking her leave, leaving the two men alone. She was a clever, perceptive sort of woman. For the life of him, Loki could not understand her attraction to Thor.

"You did not want me working with those young men," Loki said. Tony huffed and shrugged.

"It's not that I don't trust you," Tony said. "It's that I really, super don't trust you."

Loki's eyes scanned the remaining crowd. "It has been years, Stark. If I wanted to try -"

"She's out on the balcony with someone," Tony said. "You know you're no good for her."

Loki wasn't positive that those two thoughts were completely related, and raised his eyebrows.

"I think that is her choice, not ours."

"I'm her funding source, remember?" Tony sipped his drink and smiled, smug rather than casual. Loki bristled. There were times this mortal reminded him of Thor's various shortcomings. That smug superiority, the off-hand decisions which affected the lives of others regardless of their wishes.

"It is for Amma Lynn to decide for herself," Loki said. He fought the urge to menace or grind his teeth, and realized too late that this was Tony's purpose.

"It's never far away, with you," Stark said. "Always waiting for someone to piss you off just enough. You can't turn that off. You're a fuse waiting for a detonator." He lowered his voice below human hearing. "You can't think that Lynn doesn't know that."

Lynn, who favored stability and calm in her life. Who often reminded him to this day of his trickster nature, and pointed out how his thoughts veered from human processes. Oh yes, she knew. Loki hated the reminder.

"She is aware," he said.

"She deserves better," Tony said. He was pressing, and despite his efforts, Loki was ever susceptible to a good mental shove.

"She deserves a suitable companion," Loki said. His voice snapped with tension and irritation. He saw Tony's smile, and pressed on through his frustration. "She deserves to be understood and respected, to be valued."

"She deserves to be protected," Tony said. He punched his enunciation on the final word, allowing the unspoken _from you_ to hover between them. "She deserves the life she wants, with no one else's baggage."

"Who are we speaking of?" Loki asked, genuinely curious about the underscoring sadness tinging Tony's voice. The inventor shrugged and sipped his drink once more. They might have been friends once, Loki thought. They might have understood each other.

"Me," Tony said. "It's always been me. Where's Lynn?" This last question was directed at Jane, who entered their conversation after giving them space and time.

"You do not know?" Loki asked. His shoulders tensed; his fingers twitched. Tony shrugged again while Jane rolled her eyes.

"She's in the ladies room, if that's alright with you two," she said. Both men shifted their weight.

"I suppose that's acceptable," Loki said into the awkward silence. Jane laughed and Tony made a pained face.

"She took the bus, didn't she?" Tony asked. "Damn kid. I got her a really nice car."

"She summoned a vehicle," Loki said.

"If you tell me it was Uber, I'm cutting her off."

"It was Uber," said Lynn. She approached from behind Tony, grinning ear to ear. "A total, complete stranger with very little employment regulations."

"You're cut off," Tony said.

"No I'm not," she said. She offered an arm to Loki, who laced his carefully through, mindful of their disparate heights. "You can't lose your double minority checkmarks."

Tony laughed. "You're not just a checkmark. Being an orphan means I get sympathy funding, too."

Loki blinked while Lynn and Jane both laughed.

"We're all orphans here," Jane said, and Loki suddenly realized that he had never learned Jane Foster's background.

"I'm not funding the club," Tony said. "Too depressing."

"Too much work?" Lynn asked.

"Same difference." Tony grinned at her. She grinned back. Loki fought the urge to pull her away. They were safe, among friends. There was nothing to fear. And yet, Loki felt a pinprick of uncertainty. A moment's doubt and hesitation in contact with Lynn, as though…

Lynn pulled away from him and creased her brow. She looked over her three friends, blinked once, and shook her head slightly.

"I'm tired," she said to Tony. "I'm going home, and taking your minority representation with me."

"Fine, fine," Tony said. "I think I've gotten what I needed tonight."

Lynn smiled. Her dark eyes drifted to Loki, and she paused. A slight tilt of her head toward the exit.

Something was wrong. Something was strange. Loki could sense it, could feel the change moving through her. Small, nearly imperceptible, something to be traced if only she would allow him to check -

"Loki," she said. "What's wrong?" Tony and Jane were watching as well, Jane with confusion and Tony with intense regard. He understood that the trickster was concerned for a reason. Loki reached out to touch Lynn, to brush his fingers against her skin. She remained still and let him, a slight smirk on her face.

As his fingers skimmed her flesh, golden eyes peered from her body, and a deep, taunting voice whispered through his mind.

_Hello Asgardian_, the whispers hissed. _Do you like my gift?_


End file.
